𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 ↠ a. hotchner

chapter thirty-three -- 'till death

  YOU WOULD expect someone who just learned their parents were dead to be in a depressive, sloth-like state and to mope around. Ophelia did that, for a while. She was meant to go back to work after the weekend passed, but she didn't. She missed nearly two weeks of work, just taking care of Jude and Jack at home like she had for the past two months. Aaron would often find her already asleep on the couch, with Jude lying on her chest. He would just take Jude to bed after feeding her for a while, and carry Ophelia into their bedroom. Tonight he saw the same; Ophelia sprawled out on the cushions and Jude cuddling her. He took care of his daughter and put her to sleep, checking on his sleeping son in the next room afterward, and then started on Ophelia. Instead of taking her in his arms, he gently shook her awake.
      "Have you showered at all this week?" He asked with a concerned tone. She stretched her limps out, slowly waking up. He brushed her hair out of her face with his palm as she squinted her eyes at him. He took his hand away when she shook her head and lifted her up. She was perfectly capable of walking, but he knew she wouldn't move if he left it to her. She definitely didn't have to strength to fight him on this either. He carried her past the kitchen, into their bedroom, and into their connecting bathroom. He only knew what to do from watching her while they showered together, but he hated watching her not take care of herself. It was like watching his favorite person wither away. The worst part was he couldn't make her feel better. Nothing he could say or do would fix her or snap her out of her constant daze. The only thing she could force herself to do was to take care of the children. In the process, she hadn't brushed her hair, showered, or changed into proper clothes since the night he told her. Even then, she only changed if she managed to get spit up on her clothes. He had to do this for her.
      He stabled her on her feet and began to gently undress her. The first thing she noticed was how cold she was and how warm his hands were. She felt no reason to fight him. She just lifted her arms when he needed her too and stepped out of her sweatpants willingly. Once she was undressed, he ran the warm water in the bath and guided her into it, helping her down onto the porcelain once she was inside. The water filled up around her, slowly swallowing her body. Once it was just below her knees, which were tucked to her chest, he stopped the water and sat down next to her outside of the tub. She just stared at her reflection in the water.
      He took the cup meant for flowing water on Jude when she was getting a bath and filled it up. He let the water gently trickle down her head, slowly wetting her frizzy hair. He continued until it was entirely wet and began messaging shampoo into her roots. He wanted her to look at him, to show any sign of life, but she still stared at the water. She continued until he had finished rinsing her off and began to lift her up from under her arms. He led her onto the plush mat where he began to dry her off. Once he finished, he wrapped the towel around her and forced her over to the mirror, just a few steps away. She focused her attention on her sunken eyes and cheekbones; a ghost of the plump and rosy face she once had. He took the hairbrush from the drawer under the sink and began pulling through her soaking hair. She stared at her reflection as he worked through the knots in her hair, slowly and gently as to not hurt her. If he was, she couldn't feel it. She just felt a warm buzz around her entire body. As carefully as he could, he brushed through the last clump of hair and began smoothing her hair back with his hands. She used to love having her hair played with, but her somber expression still persisted. All the things she used to love, in fact, did the same. Nothing. He let his hand fall to her dampened shoulder and he gently squeezed as a last attempt of waking her from her constant daze. Unexpectedly, her hand met his, still resting on her shoulder. He looked back to her in the mirror to meet her eyes, the first time she had looked at him for days. His brow tipped up in sympathy and he pursed his lips, the best of a smile he could muster. She let herself lean into him, lightly dampening his button up that he still wore from the work day. Her touch almost sent tears flowing down his face; he waited so long for this.
      "It's not your fault," she croaked, her voice quivering. He felt selfish to think so, but coming from her, it meant everything.
      "I thought you knew." His voice was soft and dark, apologetic. She nodded.
      "I know." She turned to face him and let his strong arms drape over her, pulling her into his chest.
      "Just hold me," she squeaked, mumbled by his shirt. He did just that. He held her, let her cry. He would hold her forever if that's what she wanted. Through snow, rain, or the blistering heat, he would stand by her, until death.

      The next morning, Aaron let her sleep in, not bothering to ask her if she wanted to come back to work. He felt responsible for her absence and couldn't bare to fight her on it for one more morning. He got Jack ready and dropped him off at school on his way to work, promising ice cream once he got home before he jumped out of the car.

      He expected to have a normal work day, missing Ophelia, and shutting himself in his office all day. Evidently, his boss, Erin Strauss, had different plans. She waited outside his office with her arms folded and lips pointed downward, impatient. After greeting his team, who cautioned him of her presence, he graciously made time for her and strode to the door to his office.
      "Aaron," she demanded as he unlocked his door.
      "Yes, Erin," he droned, letting the both of them in.
      "Ophelia has missed two weeks now." It was obvious, but he seemingly didn't have a problem with it.
      "Yes, I see that," he retorted, setting his things on his desk. She rolled her eyes.
      "She was meant to be back after her leave expired." She continued what could be considered a professional tantrum.
      "She's not comfortable coming back yet." He excused her as if it were the truth and sat down in his leather chair.
      "You and I both know this is not about her child--"
      "Our child. And with all due respect, I don't think it's any of your business what this is about. She is taking a personal leave, which she has every reason to do. She will talk to you when she's ready, Erin." She stood in front of him, steam practically blowing out of her ears.
      "That's exactly the problem. Your child. I knew I shouldn't have let you two continue to work together with a relationship like yours. It makes people irrational-- irresponsible." She placed a piece of paper from her folder on his desk. "She will be back tomorrow, or you're both fired." With that, she stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her with a huff. Aaron took the papers in his hands. A disciplinary citation for the both of them. Before he could process what she said any further, he heard a soft knock on his door.
      "Come in," he called tiredly. A bug-eyed, nervous Spencer creeped in through the door.
      "Hi, sir," he chirped, halfway through the door. "I was just wondering if, um, I could take my lunch break to go check on Lia? She hasn't returned my calls lately, and I just--"
      "Yes, Reid, you can go." His expression turned hopeful and excited. "I'm sure she'd love to see you." She hadn't seen her best friend in weeks, but she wasn't ignoring him because she didn't want to see him. She didn't want him to see her, not like that.